


playhouse

by theeternalblue



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Haunted Houses, Horror, Romance, day seven : wrath or patience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 11:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeternalblue/pseuds/theeternalblue
Summary: Looking for their dream home, Archie and Veronica may have found something else entirely. And when their dreams are ripped at the seams, what are they supposed to hold onto?





	playhouse

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> This one I had in mind even before I decided to fulfill the prompts for the Vices and Virtues Week, so it's significantly longer than the other fics. I wouldn't know if it's better, but it's a homage to all those classic horror movies.

“Archie!” Veronica squeals when she feels him pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She laughs even if she tries to scold him. After all, she’s carrying a box with glasses to the kitchen while he works on the appliances. “You’re sweaty.”

“So are you,” he quips. His hair is pointing in every direction and he drags a hand through it, which messes it even more. And then he drops a kiss to her cheek anyway.

She sticks her tongue out, and then resumes her work of organizing their new kitchen. Veronica feels like for the first time she’s happy and free to share her love with Archie – now that they’ve finished college, with new jobs and a new place where to live and form a future together. And she knows that’s exactly in his plans – he was the one who picked the apartment with two bedrooms _just in case_. Of course, Archie Andrews wants kids, but he also knows it’s not yet the time.

Taking the step stool, Veronica begins to organize the champagne flutes she keeps for special occasions on the top of the shelves. It’s then that one of the glass slips through one hand and, while trying to catch it with the other, the glass smashes against the sink. A small piece of broken glass stabs the palm of her hand.

She hisses in pain, but Archie is quickly at her side. Always caring for her, he forces her to sit on the stool while he fetches the small first-aid kit.

“Archie, it’s nothing.”

He glares at her, and she imagines this is the stern look he’ll use on his students at the school whenever they misbehave. For anyone who doesn’t know, Archie might look as your typical _meat-head_ – rough around the edges and not very careful, only because he likes sports – but he’s gentle and sweet. That’s how he checks her wound for pieces of glass, he cleans it and then softly presses a band-aid to cover it. And not only that, but he drops a kiss to her wrist.

In moments like this she’s reminded of not only her love for him, but of her profound admiration for his kindness. It’s no wonder why he was chosen to be a music teacher at the elementary school. Veronica cannot wait to hear him gushing about his students.

“Thank you.”

“Why don’t you go rest while I finish here?” He stands and keeps working about the kitchen, lifting some boxes and getting them out of the way.

“Archie, it’s just a little cut. I’m sure I can help you.” She smiles at the sight of him shaking his head in a reproachful manner. “With something else, not glasses.”

He chuckles. “Fine. Do as you wish.”

It’s so easy to have fun with him, to just never feel like she’s asphyxiated by his presence, like she did with almost everyone. She just can be herself without the fear of being judged. He knows her, as much as she knows him.

Veronica takes her phone and unlocks it. “So, which toppings for the pizza?” She loves the way he laughs at her arched eyebrow. “What? I’m helping. Am I not?”

 

 

 

Even with their best effort, they could do much of the unpacking. They just started with the bedroom, and the biggest pieces of furniture, but the details are the ones taking most time. But at least the bed is made for their first night in their new place.

Archie is in the shower while she brushes her hair, and her wound hurts a bit more now that she has been under the water for a while.

“I feel human again,” Archie mumbles while rubbing his hair dry with the towel, and before he can toss it on the floor, Veronica’s eyes widen, her head tilting to one side. “Right,” he says around his laughter, “sorry.” He goes back into the bathroom, and then returns sans towel… and also sans anything else.

“Archie!” Veronica laughs at his cheekiness, because even if he’s padding around their bedroom naked, he’s blushing and his smile is innocent.

“C’mon, what are the perks of getting our place if I cannot enjoy the freedom?”

“Well, at least I know now that you didn’t do this around Jughead.”

Stalking his way to her, he stands before her and takes her hand to force her to stand up. It’s not hard to guess where he wants to lead her when his hands fall upon her thighs, grabbing the hem of her nightie, tugging up gently. She lifts her arms without him asking, and lets out a slow breath while his knuckles lightly graze against her skin in their effort to undress her.

This time she doesn’t mind when he tosses her clothes somewhere on the room’s floor.

There’s a certain thrill that travels down her spine when Archie threads his fingers in her hair and pulls her to him for a slow kiss. Her body flushed against his, her hand on his bicep, while the other helps her to rise on her tiptoes by holding at his shoulder. His hot mouth travels down her neck. Veronica shudders.

“Archie,” she whispers, and it’s good enough for him.  His fingers dig on her thighs when he lifts her up in his arms. When her legs wrap around his waist, and her mouth can enjoy the new angle against his, Veronica feels like she’s floating. And then she’s back on the bed, Archie hovering above her.

“Ronnie,” he breathes out, the back of his finger pushing her hair back, caressing her cheek. “I love you.”

Reaching up, her fingers touch his lips and his chin. “And I love you.”

His hands are like whispers in the ear of a lover, hot and quiet but also the only thing that matter in the world. No noise above it. His mouth like waves of ocean against her body, forceful and rhythmically, gentle and hypnotizing.

Her back arches off the bed, and his arms are right there to hold her, to pull her to him. They are one and that’s how it should be. They’ll always be in their little world, that no one seems to understand.

 

 

 

She wakes up after Archie, and she’s tangled in a mess of sheets. There’s a text on her phone, letting her know he’s out buying food, because they still don’t have anything in the fridge.

And she gets up, wrapped in the sheet, padding into the bathroom for a shower. She needs the hot water to ease her muscles. They have a long day ahead of them.

Steam inside the room is almost asphyxiating, but Veronica feels clean and relaxed, ready to start working on their home. She steps out and now takes a fluffy towel to wrap around her drying her body and soaking the water from her hair. She stands before the sink to look for her body lotion, but at the time she lifts her gaze to look at her face, she reads the letters that have been drawn on the condensation on the mirror. _Mine_. Four letters. Quite clear.

Her hand reaches to erase it and then she stomps her way out of the bathroom.

“Archie?”

She finds him, unpacking the breakfast he has just bought. His smile is big when he sees her.

“Hey, you ready? I got you pineapple and strawberries. And I’m finishing with your espresso machine, so you should have your coffee in a few minutes.”

Veronica only stares at him. “Weren’t you just in the bathroom?” She feels the uneasiness in her belly, something odd even before he frowns at her.

“No. I just came back. Why?”

“Nothing,” she mutters, and tries to shove her concerns in the back of her head. “I’ll get dress and come back in a second.”

There are perfectly logical explanations, maybe they just forgot to clean the mirror and the word had been there. Maybe they just hadn’t realized. But soon she’s back in the kitchen and Archie makes her laugh about something, and she starts to forget. She sits next to him and as his hand finds a place over her knee, she giggles and pecks his cheek, before listing the things they still need to buy and all the lamps he’s got to install. There’s a long day ahead. An even longer month, too.

 

 

 

Sitting on the new couch, Archie plans the lessons for his students. He’s alone, since Veronica was meeting Betty and having an afternoon just the two of them, enjoying their time without boyfriends, to probably gossip about them. Meanwhile, he can make some progress with his work and later have a nice dinner with Veronica, who enjoys all his stories about the children he gets to teach.

He doesn’t realize when he falls asleep on the couch, but he can clearly feel a weight over his chest that startles him and wakes him up. It’s already dark in the living room and before he manages to focus his eyes, he calls for Veronica.

“Babe?” he mumbles sleepily, before a cold gush of air caresses his cheek, and then his mouth. His back goes rigid when he smells something old and musty as the cold air goes against his lips.

There’s nothing there.

“Veronica?”

The pressure on his chest gets heavier when a word is whispered in his ear. _Mine_.

Archie jumps to his feet, and hurries to reach the light, hoping for every corner to be reached by it and see who is playing a joke on him. Maybe Jughead or Betty, maybe his Ronnie who wants to get a good laugh. But when everything is illuminated, he’s alone.

And he wants to find an explanation. Was it a dream? The window was slightly opened, so perhaps it was that. He surely just imagined everything.

When Veronica arrives half-hour later, she’s smiling and greets him with a kiss to his lips. Her breath smells like coffee and a bit of chocolate, and perfume still lingers on her body. She’s warm and very much real, so he takes comfort in her without saying a word.

“You okay, Archiekins?”

“Fine, fine,” he replies. “What do you want for dinner?”

And as soon as Veronica starts telling him all about her day with Betty, about new stories she’s heard and how she really tried not to buy him a new cardigan, but it was just so soft to touch she could only imagined it on him, his heart gets content again. But he doesn’t forget, he just decides to not pay attention to it.

 

 

 

It’s a Thursday, when Veronica comes back earlier from work, and she’s getting ready for a night out with friends, because one of them has just got engaged. She has just slipped on her favorite pair of black Louboutins, and is ready to leave when she trips on the hall, right in front of the door that divides the dining and living rooms. By mere inches she doesn’t smack her head against the door frame.

She screams in pain, but Archie isn’t home yet. Sitting up, she notices the heel has broken, not just at the base, but right in half. Her ankle is swelling so fast, she feels the tears prickling her eyes.

It hurts too much to get up, so when Archie arrives, she’s still there with her make up ruined and looking miserable. He picks her up and takes her to the hospital, all while she texts her friends to let them know she won’t make it. She just wants to busy her fingers and mind in anything but the weird feeling at the pit of her stomach.

“How did it happen?” Archie asks.

Veronica shakes her head. “Uneven floor?”

“Ronnie.” He scowls. They both know it’s impossible because the floors were fixed right before they moved in – it was one of the agreements for them to rent the place. She asked for it. “No.”

It’s sprained quite badly, but at least it’s not broken. They put a plastic cast on her leg and give her painkillers, and for her to at least rest a week. Just stay at home for a week. Alone, while Archie is at work.

It’s only then that she starts to seriously think something might be wrong with the apartment.

By noon, she’s moving around in crutches, hopping on her good leg while trying to get water from the fridge. She manages to do it with a lot of effort, but the task is accomplished. When she reaches the sink to wash her glass, murky water starts to pour from the faucet. It’s dark and it smells like stagnant water.

She waits a while but there’s no change.

When Archie gets home, she’s talking with the super about this apparent problem. Archie frowns because just that morning everything seemed okay. So, he opens the faucet and just like that the water is crystal clear again.

“Wait a second,” Veronica frowns from her place on the stool. “I swear, Archie. The water was muddy, dirty!”

“Ronnie, it's okay.” He tries to laugh it off, but she looks desperate.

“I’m not crazy,” she mutters, taking her crutches and leaving the room. “And this isn’t because of the painkillers.”

“I know. I’m not saying you are.” Archie follows her to their bedroom, a few steps behind her.

“You’re not but you’re thinking it!” Veronica turns around to face him, right inside the bedroom, while he stands outside.

Archie’s voice is soft, and not angry at all. “Stop it. Just shut up, and listen to me for a minute.”

Veronica is about to reply but the door between them is slammed shut. Neither of them has touched it, but Archie sees how Veronica is locked in their bedroom. His first instinct is to open it, and he’s glad that at least it isn’t locked. Veronica’s eyes are wide and she flinches when he first reaches for her.

“Ronnie.” He sighs and hugs her to him, feeling when her body clings to his.

“There’s something wrong,” she whispers.

He knows, he’s been trying to ignore it, but he knows. And that moment, as it has happened a few times before, he feels someone is watching him. Archie knows they are completely alone, but he cannot shake the feeling off.

The logical explanation is that the door closed because of a gush of air. But, how? There weren’t any windows open at the time.

 

 

 

For the next couple of days, it seems like things are fine. Nothing strange has happened to Veronica, but Archie’s kept his bad feelings to himself. The strange sensation of being watched still follows him. There are also times in the middle of the night when he feels like someone has touched him, a pressure on his chest, and has woken up to find Veronica curled up on her side of the bed sleeping.

That’s until one morning when while making breakfast, and talking to Veronica they see as one of their framed pictures, falls to the floor from its place on the side table. The glass is completely shattered around the figure of Veronica.

“I’m sick of this!” Veronica shouts, standing up. She tries to seem angry, but Archie can tell she’s terrified.

“Ronnie, do you want me to stay today? I can call in sick.”

But she’s taking her jacket and already on her phone. “I’m going to Betty’s. I’ll stay there today.” She looks at him, sighs when his hands hold her by the shoulders. “I just can't be here right now, Archie. I can’t.”

It makes him feel a bit better to know she won’t be alone in the apartment. But that lasts until he returns that afternoon and finds Veronica has hanged a cross on their bedroom wall.

He does want to complain, to say she’s overreacting, but he cannot. If this helps her to ease her mind, to feel better, then who is he to tell her no? Besides, it might just help. Archie’s never been religious, but at this point he’ll resort to anything to just have a good night of sleep.

In the middle of the night he feels Veronica’s arms sliding off his chest. His first instinct is to take it, and pull her close, which startles her. But he’s been having weird dreams, dreams about losing her or being taken away, and protecting her has always been one of his priorities.

Archie heaves a sigh, and leans over the night table to check the time on his clock. It’s twenty-one minutes past three. He whispers an apology to Veronica and asks her where she’s going.

“I’m thirsty. I’m going to get water.” She wraps her robe around her, but doesn’t tie it around her waist. Slipping one shoe on, Veronica limps her way out of the room. She’s more comfortable now, without the crutches.

Archie leans back and stares at her until she goes through the door. He closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep, but then a piercing cry makes him bolt out of bed. He has no idea how he makes the jump towards the bedroom door, but he remembers the way he sees Veronica pushed against the corridor wall, lifted off the ground by a ghostly figure before she falls violently to the floor.

“Veronica!” he cries but the door slams shut, locking him in.

In front of him the same figure appears, feeling like cold air around him as it utters _mine_. Once first. Twice when he tries to reach the door. It feels like a woman, like terribly cold and slender hands against his chest like a pressure that doesn’t allow him to breathe. _Mine_.

“Archie!” Veronica yells before she screams again.

He knows he yells back, but he doesn’t know what he says. The door rattles but it’s locked, he tugs it open, but it doesn’t budge. He kicks it, throws his body at it. Nothing. He grows desperate until he spots the big, heavy cross on their wall. He takes it in his hand. When he lifts it, and attacks the door as if it were a hammer, he sees the angry face of the spectral figure, screaming in front of him.

_You are mine!_

He manages to break the door, barely. It takes him five or six times to even make enough space to see Veronica being dragged away from her place, crying, and calling for him. But he manages to get through the door, half destroyed with the cross and his bare hands and legs.

Rushing down the hall, he sees as Veronica is dragged into the kitchen. He’s right at the door when the cupboards start shaking, the drawers rattling, and Veronica is on the floor crying, blood dripping down the side of her face.

Archie doesn’t think twice before covering with his body, right before the cups, the glasses start to rain on them. He manages to resist the first blows, feeling them crash against him, cutting his skin. The only solace he finds is in looking at the warm eyes of Veronica, even if she’s terrified, he knows he’s keeping her safe. He’d give his life for her, and if that’s what it takes, then so be it.

“I love you,” he whispers before something heavy smacks him on the head.

Veronica screams in hysterics when she feels Archie’s body fall on top of her. She fears the worst when she manages to touch the back of his head and feel the sticky substance oozing from a gash.

“Archie, baby,” she calls in a shaky voice. But there aren’t more glasses to fall. “Archie, please, wake up.”

Veronica screams when she notices a pale figure above them.

 _Mine_.

“No. _No_!” Veronica shouts angrily, feeling her tears mix with blood. A salty, coppery flavor in her mouth. “He’s mine! He loves me.” And she’ll never remember, but she finds strength somewhere in her beaten body to turn Archie on his side, to stand up and take him out of the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll get you out. I promise.”

She hurries to the front door, her body shaking with fear when she needs to leave Archie a few feet behind her. Tears roll down her cheeks as her trembling fingers unlock the door, as she tries to get the door open. She shouts when Archie’s body moves to one side, barely.

But she does manage to get the front door open, to take Archie and drag him out of the apartment with all her strength, while shouting and cursing whatever it is that can’t leave them alone.

“Go to fucking hell, you bitch!” Veronica shouts, feeling her throat raw.

The door of what used to be a dream home, now a nightmare, slams close. And Veronica’s body slumps down, joining Archie’s limp body, and crying.

“Archie, wake up, please!”

“I called the ambulance,” an old soft voice says. Veronica looks up to see the old lady who lives next door, in a flowery robe and looking tiny. Her hair is white and short. “You did well.”

Veronica can barely breathe, but she scowls at the woman, wanting to yell, but her energies are depleted and all she cares about right now is Archie. And fortunately, the ambulance arrives soon.

The last thing she remembers seeing is the old lady hiding back into her apartment, looking at them with beady eyes.

 

 

 

Archie spends a few days at the hospital, but he’s okay in the end. They are bruised and jumpy. They have no idea how to explain it to their friends without them thinking they’ve lost their minds, but Betty and Jughead understand. They even do research, but Veronica and Archie don’t want to know what happened. They don’t need to. They just want to stay away and safe, and for that they find a new place. And yes, they allow Betty and Jughead to check it, to see the history of the place and to approve it. Veronica also asks to have an interview with the owners, and ask for reasons why the last tenants left.

Nothing is too much now. They take all the precautions.

Veronica hires people to take and pack their things. And she’s surprised to learn the owner of the apartment is not making them pay for the damages, returning the deposit and just letting them go. The agent lets slip that the whole floor is owned by the same person, inherited from family. They are the sole owner, the last survivor of a big family.

“Ronnie,” Archie calls, interrupting her grim thoughts. “Are you okay?” He’s lazily strumming his guitar, practicing for class. And it’s lovely. The normalcy is so precious for her, to have him safe and near.

Veronica leans against him, sighing when she feels his proximity, his warmth. “Yes. Now I am.”


End file.
